


A Hawk in Flight

by galapagos



Series: Today is not a Good Day to Die [1]
Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Growing Up, Warden Carver Hawke, all about Carver, joining the wardens, many people live
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-04-18 13:50:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4708268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galapagos/pseuds/galapagos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carver Hawke has always felt like he lived in the shadow of his older sister. But after he contracts the taint on an expedition to the Deep Roads, he has to grow up and find himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> I'm planning on taking this all the way through Inquisition.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carver has contracted the taint while in the Deep Roads.

Carver Hawke could hear his sister talking to him. It just barely registered through the screaming and the sound of blood pounding in his ears.

“Come on Carver, you’re tougher than this. Fight!”

Carver wanted to tell her to give up. He was tainted and going to die, he’d rather not spend his last hours in a forced march through the Deep Roads. But then he looked down at Lute and couldn’t form the words. His stoic older sister, the one whom he’d always felt overshadowed by, was on the verge of tears over him.

“Yeah, yeah. Stop your nagging,” he managed with a wheezed half-laugh.

“Let me take a turn Hawke,” came another voice swimming through the Taint.

He felt someone take him from his sister, as soon as the person touched him he knew it was Anders. He could hear the darkness singing from him, not the primal scream in Carver. The Taint was still discordant in Anders but it had a harmony keeping the screaming at bay. Carver gasped and almost fainted.

“No you don’t. We’re getting you to the Wardens,” the mage scolded mildly.

They walked for what Carver felt was an eternity, the screaming continuing the entire time. When they finally stopped, he hardly noticed. Then two people he didn’t know where taking him.

“Let me come,” Lute was demanding, “He’s my brother, I need to make sure he’s okay.”  

The man told her something and Carver felt himself being lead away. The last thing Carver heard was Varric trying to comfort Lute, who was actually crying and repeating, “He’s my brother.”


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carver joins the Grey Wardens.

Carver woke on a bedroll next to a tree under the open sky. He felt strange; the screaming had stopped but he felts hints of the strange music he had heard from Anders.

“How do you feel?” he heard a woman say.

Carver turned his head to see a small, auburn haired dwarven woman in warden armor. He tried to sit up but she stopped him.

“No, no. You rest,” she waved a hand and Carver settled. “How do you feel?” she repeated.

“Terrible,” Carver said truthfully. “I feel like I was stomped on by an ogre. Several times.”

The woman smirked and shook her head, “Unfortunately, that’s normal.”

“Oh, great,” Carver groused jokingly.

“Yes. You see Wardens carry the Taint with them. Always. The Joining keeps it at bay but only for so long,” her expression was grim.

“How long?” Carver asked.

She shrugged, “Thirty years more or less. I am sorry. You would have died otherwise had we not given you the Joining.”

They sat in silence for a moment, Carver managed to sit up finally and rested his back against the tree.

“Had you considered being a Warden before?” the woman asked.

“No, not really. I was considering… I was going to join the Templars but I… I never thought the Wardens would want me,” Carver admitted, “My older sister is the hero type, I’ve always been, well, not good enough I guess.” Carver felt strange telling this to someone he didn’t know but he felt rather numb from what the dwarf had told him.

“You’re good enough, you’ve survived the toughest part.” The woman gave him an appraising stare and nodded to herself, “You’ll do fine. Speaking of your sister she was rather distraught."

Carver couldn't help but roll his eyes.

The woman noticed but just continued, "You should write a letter as soon as you’re strong enough. I’ll make sure it’s delivered. Stroud should have let them come, but…” she stopped as someone started shouting.

“Warden-Commander! Warden Commander!”

“Never a moment’s rest. I need to go, you rest. I’ll see you later,” she rose and left.

Carver’s eyes went wide. He had been talking to the Warden-Commander, the Hero of Ferelden. The woman who, almost singlehandedly, stopped the fifth blight.

“Oh shit,” Carver whispered, quoting one of Varric’s favorite saying.

 

 


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carver has nightmares and meets another junior warden

 

Carver woke up sweating. He has a terrible nightmare about darkspawn.

“Nightmares?” a voice asked.

“Yeah,” Carver answered.

“You’ll get used to it, eventually. Sorry, but it’s a drawback of the job. I’m Cora,” the voice said.

“Carver,” he replied.

“Well Carver, drink this,” a bottle landed on his lap, “It’ll help you sleep. The Warden-Commander said I was supposed to give it to you if you woke up.”

“Uh, thanks,” Carver drank the contents of the bottle. It tasted bitter, but he finished it off.

“No problem. Welcome to the Wardens, Carver.”

Carver lay back down and he felt his eyelids become heavy almost immediately. He fell asleep and had no more dreams that night.

* * *

 

Bright light came through Caver’s closed eyelids. He groaned softly and sat up, he felt like he had a hangover.

“You’re awake!” a cheerful voice sang out.

Carver recognized it and opened his eyes to see a cheerful looking young woman in warden blues crouched in front of him.

“Cora?” he asked.

“That’s me,” she said with a grin, “You look like shit.”

“Thanks.”

She laughed, “I looked worse after my Joining, let me tell you. That potion really helped, you slept like the dead.”

Carver looked up towards the sun, he was shocked to see it was at least 3pm. His eyes went wide, “Oh Maker! Did-”

“Hold on there,” Cora laughed, “There’s no rush. Something happened last night, the Warden-Commander is gone. We’re waiting here until she gets back.”

“Gone?” Carver asked.

“Yep, scout came in the middle of the night. Talked only to the Commander. Whatever he said upset her, they left real quick,” she shrugged, “So now we wait.”

“Oh,” Carver felt strange. He suddenly found himself with a lot of time to think about his new position in life. His now much shorter life. Oh Maker, he only had thirty years left. 

Cora came and sat beside him. She made a low humming noise for a moment before starting to talk, “Well, now I guess we get time to talk. Um. Like I said before, I’m Cora.” She held out her hand to Carver, “Nice to meet you.”

Carver took the proffered hand mechanically and shook it, “Carver Hawke. Nice to meet you too.”

Cora grinned, “I saw your sword, that thing is enormous! How do you use it without getting tired?”

“Well, I practice a lot and exercise. Uh, what about you?”

“Oh, I don't practice or exercise much. I’m lazy,” Cora made a face.

Carver laughed, he couldn't help it. Cora was one of those people who was infectiously cheerful.

“I meant what kind of weapon do you use?”

“Ooooooh,” Cora pretended she hadn't understood, “I’m a mage, so I mostly stand in the back and look pretty.”

“How did you end up in the wardens then?” Carver asked, intrigued.

“Now that is an interesting story,” Cora waggled her eyebrows and grinned, it was a very strange expression that made Carver want to laugh. “Well, the short of it is I kind of got caught trying to smuggle goods into Orlais. I got lucky though and there was a Wardens around. She made me an offer, join the Wardens or rot in a jail cell in the stupid Circle. Having at least average intelligence I took the offer and became a Warden.”

“You were an apostate then,” Carver said.

“Oh light no, I’m from Ravain,” Cora shook her head, “But our ‘circles’,” she made air quotes, “are really just a formality to keep the Chantry from attacking us. My Aunt Yarrow is a witch. Several of my cousins and two of my sisters are seers. My brother Lori is a mage too. I was trained up proper.” Cora sniffed feigning indignation, the effect was rather spoiled by her wide grin.

Carver shook his head, Cora’s story didn’t make a lot of sense, “But how did you end up being a smuggler in Orlais?”

“Oh, that. You do like to ask hard questions. Well, I decided to take a job for a merchant taking tea to Antiva and then onto Orlais because I wanted to travel. Everything was fine until we hit the Orlesian border and found out that the Empress had just decided to put a huge tax on tea. I decided not to pay it as it offended my sensibilities. I don’t know, it seemed a good idea until I got busted,” she shrugged.

Carver laughed, “You wouldn't happen to know a pirate woman named Isabela?”

“No, why?”

“I think you’d like her.” Carver grinned.

Cora got up and stretched, “Well, I have work to do. You should take a walk, stretch your muscles, just don't wander off too far. One of the senior wardens, Jalla, said she’d be round to see you in about a half hour.”

Carver got up as Cora began to walk away. Carver thought a moment then called after her, “Uh Cora? Thanks for distracting me.”

Cora turned and gave him a rakish bow before sauntering off.


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carver has a bath.

Warden Jalla turned out to be a middle aged elven woman with an eyepatch over her left eye.

“You the new recruit then?” she asked in a heavy accent he didn’t recognize.

“Yes, I’m Carver, ma’am.”

Jalla grimaced, “Jalla is fine, we aren’t very formal around here. I’ll be training you until Brosca decides what she wants to do with you. We start right away...” She looked him up and down and then tsked, “No. I take it back. First thing we must outfit you proper. You’re in a mess, lad. Ja, first we get you a bath. Come on.”

Jalla lead him to a large tent and emerged with a bag. Then she lead Carver off to a small grove with a stream.

“Not as nice as our hot springs back home, but it’ll do.” She tossed Carver the bag, “Everything you need is in here. soap and clean clothes. When you’re done come back and I’ll outfit you proper.”

Carver nodded as the woman left. Then he set about cleaning himself up.

He was sore, his muscles screamed in protest when he got into the icy water of the stream. Carver thought about everything that had happened to him since he’d contracted the Taint. He wasn't really sure how he felt about becoming a Warden. The Grey Wardens were legendary heroes, Carver wasn't sure if he could live up to that. Perhaps worse was the anger he felt at the cost. His life was now so much shorter now. He’d be dead at what 48, 49? Maybe 50, if he was lucky? A few day ago 50 had seemed so old. Now it seemed much too young.

Carver splashed about and found his thoughts drifting to his older sister. How much easier would it be if he could just blame her. But Carver found he couldn’t be angry with Lute. Whenever he tried all he could think of was what the Warden-Commander had said, Lute had been distraught. And, well, Carver’s last memory of his sister was her crying when he was taken away. Lute never cried in front of people.

The only time Carver remembered hearing Lute actually cry was when their father died. He had only seen her accidentally. She hadn't cried at the funeral or anything. He'd been running through the woods trying to vent his anger when he's come across his big sister in a clearing. She was crumpled up on the ground sobbing. Carver had snuck away without Lute seeing him and he had never spoken of it to anyone, not even with Bethy.

Carver remembered Lute had helped carry him through the Deep Roads too. He didn’t remember everything she had said, but he remembered some. He also remembered with a shudder what he has felt when Anders had touched him, but he tried to shrug it off. No, Carver couldn't be angry at Lute even if he wanted to. He knew that he could be an awful little prick to his big sister but, despite what people thought, he loved her.

Besides, Carver had to admit to himself that he was only here because he insisted on going to the Deep Roads.

Fenris had offered to go but Carver had insisted. Mother had been furious when Lute had agreed. Bethy had been pretty upset too, she’d wanted to come. Of course, Bethy couldn’t go. She never had fully recovered from that ogre attack outside Lothering. She got tired easily and had was often in pain. Better for her that she had stayed in Kirkwall. Maker, he couldn’t imagine Bethy being a Warden.

Carver dried off and got dressed in the clean tunic and breeches Jalla had given him. He headed back to the camp.

Jalla was waiting at the supply tent, “Ja, much better. Well, we get you some armor now. When we reach the Keep you’ll get fitted properly, but we’ll get you something that will do for now.”

They went through the supply tent shifting through the armor available. They were able to find him a full set. Carver felt strange in the Warden blues. The griffon on his chest felt heavy. Good but heavy.

“Looks good, lad. Very handsome. Now we train.”


	5. V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carver's training is not quite what he expected and he gets a chat with the Hero of Ferelden.

Carver expected training in fighting but Jalla had something else in mind. Carver got a crash course in the history and customs of the wardens. Every morning he studied and during the the afternoons he did odd jobs and talked to the other Wardens.

Carver learned a lot in those days while they waited for the Warden-Commander’s return. A lot about the Grey Warden of course, but even more about the people around him.

Jalla was originally from the Anderfels. She had married a merchant and eventually settled in Ferelden. She had two grown children and had only become a warden recently after the attack at Amarathine had left her a widow. Jalla was a kind woman and a great teacher, but she often lamented Carver’s lack of patience and his quick temper. “Calm, lad! The winter winds can blow forever but they won’t knock down the mountain. Be the mountain!” that was Jalla’s favorite saying.  

Carver learned that Stroud was from Orlais and had come at the request of the Warden-Commander. He wasn’t completely comfortable with the changes Warden-Commander Brosca was making, but he was coming around.

Wardens Varrel and Lorn were junior wardens like himself but they didn’t like to talk much and kept to themselves. They had come with Stroud. Jalla told Cora and Carver to leave them alone, “They’ve had a hard time of it, best leave them be.”

Then, of course, there was Cora. She was a talker and delighted in telling Carver about her childhood and her extended family. Her mother was half elf half human and her father part dwarf. She had scores of aunts, uncles, and cousins. But her favorite stories were the ones she about her Aunt Malika, who was qunari, and her Aunt Yarrow, the witch. They owned a dairy farm and were wonderfully warm, funny people. Carver rather suspected half of Cora’s wild stories were made up on the spot. It didn’t matter, she was so much fun he didn’t really care.

****

It was the middle of the night when the Warden-Commander returned. Carver had just finished his watch and was drifting off to sleep when she and her companions arrived. There was an extra man with them. Carver caught a glimpse of the tall, dark Dalish man. His expression was grim as he followed the Warden-Commander and a scout into her tent.

Carver tried to sleep but couldn't help but try to theorize who the man was. Whatever was going on, it was bad business. He finally fell asleep but had confused dreams where he felt like he was being followed.

When morning came Jalla brought him a letter writing kit and told him that when he finished writing home the Warden-Commander wanted to see him.

****

Carver scowled at the blank paper. All he had managed to write thus far was:

Lute,

I’m not dead.

He’d tried to write to his mother but that had been even more difficult. Writing had never been particularly easy for Carver but this was, he felt, ridiculous.

“Damn,” he muttered. Then he scrawled:

I’ve become a warden. We’re stopping at Vigil’s Keep back in Ferelden, then I don’t know. Tell mother and Bethy I’m fine. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to write again. Say hello to everyone for me.

Carver

He hesitated a moment then added:

P.S. Thanks for saving my ass, Sis.   

Carver folded and sealed the letter. His task finally finished he went to find the Warden-Commander.

She was working on a letter of her own. Hers, however, was several sheet long already. She looked up as he approached.

“Ah, Carver Hawke. Finished?”

“Yes ma’am,” he stood stiff and saluted.

The warden commander sighed, “Calm down, you’ll sprain something.”

Carver relaxed a bit sheepishly, “Sorry, Commander Brosca. Here’s my letter. Thank you for taking care of it.”

“No problem,” she gestured to him, “Please sit. I want to talk to you.”

Carver sat on a camp stool across from the woman.

The commander wrote a few more lines then dabbed the page to dry it before looking up. She pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and fixed Carver with a gaze which made him feel like a naughty child.

"I'm sorry I haven't found time to speak with you earlier. Tell me about yourself."

"There's not really a lot to tell."

The commander raised an eyebrow, "Of course there is, start at the beginning. You’re Ferelden?"

Carver nodded.

"Where did you grow up?"

"I... I'm from Lothering," the commander's brow furrowed for a moment but she didn't say anything so Carver continued, "At least, that's where I grew up. I've been living in Kirkwall for a while now. We came during the Blight.”

“You have family, you were with your sister correct?.”

“Yes, ma’am. I have my mother and two sisters. One sister is my twin and the other is older. My older sister, Lute, was the one I was with.”

Carver felt awkward and didn’t know what to say next. He felt stupid and clumsy in front of the Warden-Commander. She was a famous hero, the famous hero and he was so… insignificant.

“Don’t be nervous,” she told him with a smile. “I just want to get to know you a little better. So, Why Kirkwall?”

“My mother was from Kirkwall, her family was well off but she eloped with my father, who they didn't approve of, when she was young. They ran off to Ferelden. When the Blight hit, Mother decided to try going back to Kirkwall." Carver shrugged slightly, "That's about it."

"I see. You have military experience of some kind?”

Carver looked down to his feet, “I was in the Ferelden army at Ostagar, ma’am.” Carver rambled on, “My sister and I both went, she was a scout. I was in the infantry. I was lucky to make it out.”

The Commander sighed and muttered, “Ostegar.” She shook her head and they were both silent for a moment. “I see. So,” she finally continued, “Your sister is an apostate I take it? Or perhaps, both of your sisters?"

Carver looked up and stiffened.

"Oh don't worry, I won’t tell anyone. I’ve been friends with more than a few apostates in my time,” she smiled faintly.

Carver bowed his head, the Warden-Commander was a sharp woman.

“Both my sisters ma’am.. and my friend, a girl I...” Carver stuttered.

“And you were considering becoming a templar?”

Carver nodded a little dumbly avoiding the commander's eye. He couldn’t tell the commander his, his... cockamamie plan. He’d agonized over what he would do if the templars ever took Lute, or Bethy, or Merrill. None of them would survive in the Circle, he knew that. He’d thought perhaps if he joined the templars he could keep them away from his sisters and Merrill. Carver was even prepared to break them out if he had to.

Carver looked up to see the Warden-Commander’s sympathetic look, “I have sisters too,” she added quietly.

Carver nodded, thankful that she wasn’t making him explain himself.

“Stroud did say we have a mutual friend,” Commander Brosca said, abruptly changing the subject.

Carver was slightly confused, “What?”

“Anders,” Commander Brosca smiled, “Stroud said he was one of your friends.”

"That mage is not my friend," Carver snapped.

"Ah," the commander said in that irritatingly knowing tone, then to Carver’s horror she laughed at him. "Oh Carver Hawke, I understand, truly. Someday I’ll tell you about some of the people I have traveled with. But for know let me tell you this, there are many kinds of people who are Wardens. They will be your allies and comrades. While you don't have to like them, you’ll have to try to get along. Even with the fools and the jackasses. Clear?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Then she smiled at him again and sat back a little, "Good. I firmly believe you can and will be an asset to the Wardens, Carver Hawke. Jalla has given you a good report and I trust her judgement. You will continue reporting to her until we get back to Weisshaupt, then we’ll see. You use a two handed sword?"

Carver nodded and the Commander made some notes on her paper.

"Hmm, well I will take that into consideration. For now, please continue to report to Jalla. You’re dismissed "

"Thank you ma'am," Carver said.

“Wait,” the Commander called to Carver, “do you prefer to be called by your first or last name?”

Carver thought for a moment, “I prefer… I prefer just Carver.”

 

 


	6. VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to train some more.

The Wardens moved quickly across Thedas, and reached Amarantine within a couple of weeks. The Warden-Commander and the man she had brought with her, who turned out to be Warden Cai Mahariel, seemed quite anxious to reach the Keep. They got in during the night, the Warden-Commander and Warden Mahariel lead the way in. They were greeted by a tall, dark haired man. He had a quick, quiet conversation with the Warden-Commander then they well as Mahariel and Stroud, left. Jalla shook her head and turned to the other wardens.

“Cora, show Carver to his room. Put him up in the empty room next to yours,” Jalla instructed the younger wardens, “I’ll need to see the commander. You two,” she gestured to Varrel and Lorn, “take the horses in and get some sleep.”

Jalla left and Cora lead Carver to another door in on the other side of the compound. They went up stairs and through winding halls before they stopped at a door.

“Here we are,” Cora said happily letting them into the room, “There aren’t many wardens right now so we each have our own rooms while we’re here.”

The room was bare stone but it was a large as Gamlen’s living room. There was a fireplace and a few plain pieces of furniture as well as the bed. Cora opened the trunk at the end of the bed and pulled out blankets and bedclothes.

“Here you go. Make yourself comfortable, I don’t know how long we’ll be here though. The Commander Brosca didn’t look too happy and that usually means we’re in for a hike,” she waggled her eyebrows and made a face, “Night, Carver.”

“Thanks Cora, goodnight,” Carver said as she closed the door behind herself.

Well, he was here. A real, live warden in a real warden’s keep.

****

Despite Cora’s predictions, they didn’t leave Vigil’s Keep the next day or anytime that week. The Commander had left along with some of the senior Wardens but she had left word for Jalla to keep training the Carver and the other junior wardens for the time being.

Jalla got them up at the crack of dawn every morning for a run.

“I thought you said this wasn’t an army?” Carver called to Jalla in a joking wheeze as he tried to keep up with the older woman as she ran up a steep hill.

“Ja, but the run is good for you lad. Build up your Warden stamina,” Jalla grinned back at him.

Cora laughed, but she was even farther behind than Carver.

Carver just shook his head and kept running. He was no slouch but Jalla was in ridiculously good shape. A few minutes later, the seemingly inexhaustible older woman called a halt.

“Alright, take a break. Get your breakfasts out of your packs, you have a half hour to eat,” Jalla told them, “I want to gather some herbs.”

Cora threw herself to the ground melodramatically, “Gah, I’m exhausted. Carver, get my tea out before I die!”

“Rubbish,” Carver chuckled, “Get your own tea.”

Cora made inarticulate noises as she lay face down on the ground,

Carver just shook his head and got her canteen out. Cora moaned loudly and sat up and took a long drink.

“Thanks darling boy, you’ve saved a dying woman’s life,” she said then rooted around in her pack and got her breakfast out.

Carver rolled his eyes and got his own food out to eat too. Lorn and Verral sat nearby and ate, speaking softly in a language neither Carver nor Cora understood. The seemed to make a decision and Lorn came over with something wrapped in a cloth.

“Would you two like some pastry?” he offered.

“Lorn makes them, they’re very good,” Verral added.

“Thanks,” Carver said taking a piece.

Cora took one as well, “Damn it Lorn, this is delicious. What is it?”

“Prune an' cheese,” Lorn said, flashing a rare smile.

“Well, that’s the best thing I’ve eaten in ages,” Cora said with a grin, “Thanks.” Carver nodded in agreement and murmured his thanks again through his full mouth.

Lorn bobbed his head then sat back down. They group ate in silence for a few minutes before Jalla come back with a bag full of plants. She took in the scene and declared, “Five minutes, then we go back. We walk though, I want to see what you know about herb lore.”

Cora made a face, Lorn and Verral just shrugged. Carver, however, didn’t mind. He actually knew a good bit about herbs and had picked up quite a lot during his time in Kirkwall.

Jalla quizzed them all the way back to the keep. She made them try to identify various plants and their uses. Cora was hopeless. She didn’t get any right, though Carver suspected she was purposely getting them wrong to annoy Jalla.

“I don’t see the point,” Cora argued, “I’m a mage, remember?”

“Mages can only do so much, even the talented ones,” Jalla said through pursed lips, “And you happen to be a dismal healer, young lady.”

Cora looked repentant, but as soon as Jalla’s back was turned, she winked at Carver and whispered, “Well, we’re screwed then.”

“No,” Jalla shot back, “Because you’re going to learn herbs if I have to pound them into your brain with a hammer.”

Cora doubled over with laughter.  


	7. VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carver get a new assignment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's such a short chapter.

Carver woke to someone shaking him, none too gently.

“Come on, get up!”  

He realized it was Cora.

“Maker, Cora! What time is it?” he asked groggily.

“Um, about 6:30 in the morning,” she replied.

“Damn it, I had night watch!” Carver groaned, “I only got off a half hour ago.”

“Yeah, but this is important! The Warden-Commander got back just a little while ago and...”

Carver groaned and flopped down on the bed, “Is that all?”

“Carver!” Cora was flustered.

“Why do I need to get up?”

“Because I asked for you.”

“Ahhh!” Carver tumbled out of bed.

Cora stood back giggling as Carver tried to right himself and the Warden-Commander came into the room.

“Calm down Carver. I’m sorry to wake you so early, I had hoped to catch you before you were asleep. I need to go to Weisshaup and you’ll be coming with me. Any of your assigned duties for the rest of the day are cancelled.” Commander Brosca smiled faintly, “Now get some sleep. It’s going to be long trip.”

The Commander left followed by Cora and Carver sat back down and got mechanically back into bed, too stunned to process what just happened.


	8. VIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Travelling with Brosca and Mahariel proves to be interesting for Carver.

Carver was listening as the Warden-Commander discussed the route they were taking with Warden Mahariel.

“We’ll be meeting him here,” Brosca said pointing to a location on the map.

“It’ll be good to see him,” Mahariel gave one of his rare smiles, “It’s been a long time.”

“Too long,” Brosca sighed. “Nate was delayed, so he won't be joining us. I’m not sure what the other Warden Commanders want, but I suspect it isn’t a friendly chat.”

Carver's interest was peaked.

Mahariel snorted, “You’ve shaken them up. Then they made you Warden-Commander of Ferelden I doubt they realized who they were really getting. Look at how you handled Amaranthine and the mess in the Free Marches. From what I heard, Stroud about shit his fancy Orlesians pants when you restructured the wardens out here.”

Brosca chuckled. “Stones Cai, you sounded just like Brangwen. Stroud is a good man though, he’ll come around.”

“They sent him to watch you,” Mahariel countered.

“Of course they did,” Brosca said then looked back at Carver. “When the other Warden-Commanders appointed me the Warden-Commander of Ferelden they sent Stroud from Orlais to help me since we’re so,” she smiled sardonically, “short staffed. We’ve grown quickly but they don’t approve of all the changes I’ve been making.”

“Such as keeping everyone in the gods damned loop,” Mahariel chuckled darkly.

Brosca nodded, “As much as possible.”

****

Carver tensed when the Warden-Commander ran headlong towards some bushes. He was surprised to see a slight figure in the shadows being knocked over by the speeding woman and was about to draw his sword but Mahariel but a hand on his shoulder and smiled, shaking his head.

“It’s ok,” he said, “Obviously couldn’t wait until the rendezvous point.”

Carver’s eyes went wide as the two came out of the bushes and back towards their companions. The Warden-Commander was absolutely beaming. It was almost frightening how different she was from five minutes ago.

The man clasped hand with Cai then hugged each other affectionately.

“Mi amor, this is your new apprentice?” Zevran said with a laugh, “You have good taste.”

“Stop it Zev, you’ll scare the boy,” she said with a warm laugh. “This is Carver Hawke, he’s a new Warden-Recruit. Carver, this is my husband Zevran Arainai.”

Carver reached out a hand to the elven man who shook it warmly, one arm still draped over the Warden-Commander.

“Let’s make camp here,” Mahariel suggested, “It’s getting late and you two need some time to catch up.”

****

“He’s in the water flailing about in full armor, and he cannot swim. Ada just sighs and wades in, grabs him, and pulls him to shore,” Zevran finished as he laughed.

“He was so drunk he kept protesting that he had to go back in and talk to the fishy people,” Mahariel added.

Carver gaupped, they had been telling him stories of their companions from the Blight. The way they told it, the companions were mostly a group of crazy people and drunks that should have all died.

“That can’t be true,” he spluttered.

“Unfortunately it it,” Brosca sighed, “Oghren is… an interesting person. Of course, these two tell it very colorfully, but still true.”

Carver shook his head in shock.

“Don’t feel so bad young Carver,” Zevran said, “You expected great, solemn heroes but we are much more interesting in real life, no?”

“Well, I can’t deny that,” Carver said.

Brosca shook her head, a smile crinkling her eyes, “I honestly don’t recognize myself in most of the stories they tell about us. They make it sound so organized but we had no idea what we were doing. Just running from place to place, hoping for the best. But if you want to hear more embarrassing stories, how about when I first met Zevran and he tried to kill me?”


	9. IX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carver discovers some things in Weisshaupt.

Carver shivered violently. He had known the Anderfels were cold but this was beyond anything he had imagined. Even inside with a fire, it was cold.

Zevran hadn’t come with them to Weisshaupt. A group of assassins had tried to kill him on their journey and he had decided to go back to Antiva. Carver envied him the warm weather at least, if not the fact that some of the Crows were still trying to kill him, or that he was once against separated from the love of his life. That still felt a little weird to Carver. Like thinking about his mother having mad love affair with a strapping, young suitor. Carver shuttered trying to get the scene out of his mind.

They were finally going to be leaving Weisshaupt. They’d been there for months, but the Warden council seemed to finally be done with Warden-Commander Brosca. He hadn’t been privy to everything, but it seemed to him that most of what had happened was a lot of shouting.

The crux of the problem seemed to be exactly what Cai had said. Brosca was making a lot of changes in Ferelden, they seemed to be working very well but the old Wardens didn’t like it much. She was changing tradition, she was shaking things up. She’d perhaps convinced some of the council to listen. That had made the others even more nervous

Things had eventually come to an impasse and the Warden council had decided to let Brosca go back to Ferelden with her title intact.  

Carver hadn’t even realized the Wardens were governed by a council. It seemed to be made of of older wardens from various parts of Thedas. There job was to administer the affairs of the wardens and keep everything in order. Rather like a village council but with more mystery. He hadn’t seen any of them the whole time he’d been here. Everything he knew was from what Brosca herself had told him and Cai. Cai had been called before the council and had come out scowling. All he told Carver was that they were a bunch of fat headed idiots, then he'd used some colorful sounding Dalish curses that Carver didn't understand. He had not been called back.

Carver and Cai were just waiting for Brosca to come out of her final meeting with the council.

Cai was sprawled out on a chair near the fire, his long legs stretched in front of him. He’d had a dark expression all day.

“It’s my daughter’s birthday today,” Cai said quietly.

Carver’s head popped up, “What?”

“My daughter, she’s two years old today,” Cai said turning to look at the younger warden.

“I’m sorry you’re not with her,” Carver managed to say. He hadn’t known Cai had any children.

“As am I,” Cai said shaking his head, “We were very happy to have her but… we're separated. Not on purpose, there was an accident. I have not been able to return to them. I… I thought perhaps you would understand a little, you have no children but you’ve been separated from your family as well.”  

Carver nodded thoughtfully. He missed his mother and sisters terribly, and his friends in Kirkwall. He couldn’t imagine how hard it must be to be separated from one's child.

“Her name is Siofra. My love swore up and down she was having a boy. How surprised she was when it was a girl,” he smiled at the memory. “Tyrin had said it would be a girl anyway, and she was never wrong. But she might be having the boy she wanted, she was a few month along with our second when I...” Cai stopped, then stood up, “I think I’ll have a walk, see you later.”


	10. X

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carver can cook, but he is not graceful.

“We need to work on your footwork,” Brosca said, a groan in her voice.

Carver looked back at her, she had that look she got when she wasn’t quite pleased. 

“You’re just… not graceful,” she clarified. “You’re strong but you need agility too. We’ll work on it.”

Carver couldn’t help but grin. The Warden-Commander had said she was going to assign him to another warden for training, but it had been almost a year and he was still working with her. He’d been dragged halfway around the world then over the length and breadth of Ferelden half a dozen times. Carver had enjoyed every single moment. 

Brosca was a good teacher. She seemed to have a nearly inexhaustible pool of patience. And Carver felt that she genuinely liked him. She was his friend as well as his mentor. 

They were currently cleaning up Darkspawn near the Koracci Wilds. They had joined some other Wardens including a rather wild Dalish woman who he had found out was Cai’s twin sister, Brangwen Mahariel. She and her partner, Leliana, had recently left for Kirkwall. Leliana had promised to deliver a letter to Lute for Carver. They were due back any day and Carver was starting to get anxious. 

“We’re done for the day,” Brosca said. “I’ll start dinner.” 

She sheathed her weapons and started cleaning up.

“If you don’t mind,” Carver said as he followed suit, “I’ll cook dinner tonight.”

The Warder-Commander laughed. “Oh, you want edible food? Mister picky. Fine, go ahead.”

Carver grinned. Brosca’s cooking was beyond abysmal. She managed to burn food while leaving it undercooked inside. It was almost an art form, and it was completely inedible.

Carver, on the other hand, was a decent cook. He couldn’t do anything fancy but he always managed to make it taste good. He started on a stew while Brosca kept watch, waiting for the other wardens who were out on patrol to return. 


End file.
